


With the Touch of A Button

by RisingPhoenix761



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Dad Jokes, Gen, Humor, I Don't Even Know, This started doing its own thing so here we are, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingPhoenix761/pseuds/RisingPhoenix761
Summary: One last End of All Things, one last solution
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	With the Touch of A Button

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hankerin for the wackiest, most unconventional ending i could think of. I have no idea what wires crossed in my noggin to birth this thing, but at least it was fun! :D Big thanks to Slytherkins and thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters on Tumblr for the beta and the translation, respectively. You're both amazing.

Jack's screams echoed in the tilted corridor until it seemed they would carry on forever--or however long until Chuck ended his last universe. Sam, Dean, and Cas could only look on in horror and Chuck stood smiling in macabre satisfaction at one more grisly twist in the story. It was all over: Jack's life, Billie's plan, and their last chance at beating God Himself.

And everything froze. Jack fell silent and went motionless, as did Cas beside him, and Chuck was as still and unmoving as the solid walls of the bunker around them. 

Sam was the first to move, his eyes wide with shock. He turned to Dean and half expected to see him frozen in time as well, though when his gaze fell on his brother it was to see Dean already looking at him with confusion piercing through the rage of a few moments before. "Dean," he said, barely steady enough to push the words out with a whisper, "what the hell?"

Dean glanced at Jack, Cas, and Chuck, then back at Sam. "I don't...I don't know…"

"Maybe...Billie?"

"I don't--"

"Hello, boys."

They both paused in disbelief. That wasn't Billie's voice sounding out in the corridor behind them. It was rougher, deeper, and though it had been years since either of them heard it, and impossible as it was, there was no mistaking it. They turned to see him standing there with that typical look of superiority in his eyes.

Crowley. 

He smirked at their stupefaction. "Miss me?"

Dean moved first, his eyes riveted on the demon as he got to his feet. He took a step towards him, but Sam reached out to grip his arm and halt his progress. "Don't," he murmured.

"What, no hello?" Crowley, or at least the thing that looked like him, asked. "No nice to see you? You're looking well lately, what's your secret?"

Dean turned to Sam with a significant look on his face, but Sam shook his head. "No way," he insisted, "not after everything that's already happened. There's no way that's Crowley."

"Why not?" Dean argued. "Lilith came back."

"Yeah, because Chuck brought her back."

"Did he?" Crowley asked. "I'll have to go back and watch that one."

The brothers glanced at the new arrival. He stared back, his expression a portrait of condescending exasperation. "We can't stay on pause forever, boys, so let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"We?" Sam challenged. "You know, you look and sound a lot like the real thing, but we've dealt with a few too many Crowley knockoffs lately."

"You don't say?" He grinned. "Often imitated, never duplicated."

"Actually, Sam's got a point," Dean conceded. "How do we know you're really Crowley?"

"You've got a birthmark on your inner left thigh. I never knew about it until we spent those few days in Omaha at that hotel with--"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever, we got it." Dean turned to Sam and pointedly avoided eye contact. "It's him, Sammy."

Crowley's grin widened and Sam gave Dean a shrewd, questioning look.

"So, what…" Dean began, the confusion plain on his face. "How are you… Crowley, we _watched_ you kill yourself."

"And look how that turned out. I ask you, what was the point of sacrificing myself for the greater good if all my work was undone almost immediately after? It's insulting, really."

"Well, it didn't stick, did it?" Sam asked. "How did you manage that?"

"Not so fast, boys. We have to settle this first." Crowley pointed to the scene frozen behind them. "You really have gotten yourselves into a mess this time, haven't you?"

Sam and Dean turned back to Cas, Jack, and Chuck. They still hadn't moved, hung static in time, and Dean asked, "How did you do that?"

Crowley ignored him and drew something from his pocket. He examined it thoughtfully and said, "Based on my knowledge of your latest scrape, you need God off the board before he decimates all of creation, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a frown. He leaned forward to get a better look at the object in Crowley's hand. "Is that a remote?"

"And I take it your young friend there is looking at life and death?" Crowley went on.

"It _is_ a remote," Dean interjected.

"Hello? Earth to Winchesters?" Crowley waved towards the tableau of god, angel, and nephilim. "Excuse me while I help save your sorry arses. What needs to be done here?"

"I'd say we need to yeet dear old Dad into his own network," a new voice insisted. "I mean, for starters."

The Winchesters halted in shock all over again, and Crowley gave a dramatic roll of his eyes as another figure made its way towards them. Golden brown hair, a gleam in his eye suggesting he knew what was going on better than anyone else did and a smile to match it, he drew level with Crowley and addressed Sam and Dean. "Long time, no see, boys."

" _Gabriel?_ " Sam burst out.

"Surprise!" The archangel had clearly stopped by the kitchen on his way through the bunker, a slice of Mrs. Butters' spiced cake on a plate in his hand. He casually dug in and indicated the frozen trio with his fork as he spoke between bites. "So, what are we doing about this?"

"Still working on that," Crowley replied with an air of long-suffering. "Let me just…" He lifted the remote, aimed it at Cas, and pressed a button.

Cas returned seamlessly to motion, his arm still around Jack and the boy's name still on his lips. He halted as he took in the scene before him, then turned to the one behind him, and his bewilderment was palpable. "Dean," he said, "what the hell is going on?"

"Howdy, little bro," Gabriel greeted.

"Evening, Cas," Crowley added. 

Cas stood and looked from one to the next. "How are you both here right now?"

Crowley raised the remote and gave it a cheeky wiggle. 

Cas frowned. "What does a television remote have to do with--"

"Hold that thought, mate, and tell us what's going on with Father of the Year and Boy Wonder over there."

"Better make it snappy," Gabriel added, scraping the fork across the plate for stray crumbs and icing. "I don't think Dad is going to stay paused for much longer."

The rest of them looked at Chuck, who was slowly beginning to move again.

"Uh...Jack first," Sam suggested. "He's...he's been doing these trials to build up his power into a--a bomb. He's supposed to take out Chuck."

"Blowing ourselves up to save the world again?" Crowley asked. "He must be a Winchester."

"How long ago did he light the fuse?" Gabriel inquired.

Sam turned to Dean, who answered, "Not long. A few minutes, maybe?"

"Right. Then let's try...this…" The remote trained on Jack and a look that was equal parts contemplation and concentration on his face, Crowley pressed another button. Jack started to move, but not in the independent, natural way Cas had. Instead, he jolted to his feet and staggered backwards down the hallway at twice the speed he had entered it minutes before, until he finally rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. 

There was a brief, stunned silence, then Sam asked, "Did you just _rewind_ him?"

"Pretty cool, ain't it?" Gabriel replied. 

"Cool? That's--" Sam looked from one to the next, his brow furrowed ever deeper in perplexity, then hurried off down the corridor after Jack.

Dean traded looks with Cas before he turned to Crowley and Gabriel again. "So, you guys both turn up back from the dead, right as we're running out of options to beat God himself, and your solution is a universal remote?" he demanded. 

"A _literal_ universal remote," Gabriel agreed. He indicated Crowley with a tilt of his head. "His idea."

"When I told my R and D guys to think outside the box…" Crowley added. "They kept working on it even after my demise, though to be honest, I rather doubt they meant to resurrect me. A happy accident, you might say."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they disagree."

"Don't make me mute you again, Gabe."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sure, you two team up from the other side to _Click_ our way out of the latest apocalypse," he muttered. "Why the hell not?"

"Dean," Cas broke in urgently. "Chuck!"

The four of them turned to see him slowly, oh so slowly, begin to move.

"Pause him again," Gabriel prompted.

"Oh, you think?" Crowley shot back. He already had the remote on Chuck and pressed the pause button over and over, though no matter how many times Chuck froze again, he always started to move soon after. "I thought you said this was a sure thing!"

"I said this was _the closest we had_ to a sure thing. You can't be hitting the right button."

"How many bloody pauses do you think this thing has? Of course I'm hitting the right one!"

"Then why is he--you know what, gimme that." Gabriel snatched the remote and ignored Crowley's indignant sputter as he pushed several more buttons.

Chuck moved in slow motion, then brightened, then appeared with more intense saturation, then developed sharper contrast.

"There, see?" Crowley pointed out, throwing his hands in the air. He shook his head, then folded his arms to watch. "Can't see where you're doing any better than I was, darling."

"Just watch...and...learn…" 

Dean and Cas gave each other similar looks of incredulity before turning back to the archangel and the demon. For all Gabriel's efforts, Chuck continued to slowly overcome the effects of the remote, and his expression steadily shifted to one of bemusement.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Here we go," he muttered. "Another family reunion."

"Ga...bri...el…" Chuck said, still moving in slow motion. "What… do… you… think… you're… do...ing?"

"Hang on a sec, Pop," Gabriel replied. He frowned at the remote and tried another button. "Kinda busy, here."

"Could be the batteries," Crowley suggested. "Maybe they weren't as juiced as we thought."

"Please. I gave them all I got, and nobody has juice like mine."

Dean cringed. "Ew."

"Cute," Chuck said. He gradually picked up speed and looked more and more annoyed the longer it took him. "I thought… Michael… killed you…"

"Yeah, well, being dead sounded boring as hell."

"You've obviously never been," Crowley observed dryly.

"And si...ding with the Win...chesters. I'm not mad...I'm just dis...appoint...ed."

Gabriel ignored him and slapped the remote against the palm of his hand, brow furrowed.

"Having trouble?" Crowley asked.

"Shut up," he shot back.

"Oh, your toy is...n't working?"

"Can it, old man."

"Gabriel, it's _not_ working," Cas insisted.

"Pipe down, little bro."

"Dude, he's moving!" Dean burst out.

"A little less from the peanut gallery, please?"

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," Chuck broke in. He flexed his hands and stretched his arms to be sure he was at full speed again, then shot Gabriel a thunderous look. "It was funny for a second, dat geef ik toe, maar ik heb echt geen zin in spelletjes, en de jouwe het minst."

Dean, Cas, and Crowley gaped.

Gabriel's frown deepened. "How the hell did I do that?"

Chuck heaved a dramatic sigh and raised his hand, fingers poised to snap.

A quick jab of a button, and his hand fell back to his side, only to lift again with the fingers curled and ready, then fall again, then rise…

"Oh, good, at least the replay works."

"Replay?" Crowley repeated. "You think that will work forever? I'll give it an hour or two before the batteries run down and we're screwed, and that's only if you can keep up with hitting the button."

"Don't bitch to me about the batteries! This thing is all your idea, it's not my fault if it can't hold a charge."

"You have no idea how many demigods had to die to make this thing work! I thought you were supposed to boost it with archangel grace and trickster magic!"

"You think it would have worked this long if I hadn't?"

"Cut the crap," Dean interrupted, "and let's deal with this! How does that thing work? What's powering it?"

"The power of a few minor deities, and some of my grace," Gabriel replied.

"It works like any remote," Crowley added, his eyes on Chuck still raising and lowering his hand. "Each button is programmed to perform a certain function, and with the addition of Gabe's ability to bend reality, you have an instrument powerful enough to control just about anything."

"Except it's only a prototype, and it's not perfect." 

"And it's more of a conduit than a container."

"And the more you use it, the faster it runs down."

"So, you just need more power?" Cas asked.

"Yes," they answered together.

Dean and Cas turned to each other and said, "Jack."

"Yes?"

They glanced down the corridor to see Jack and Sam approaching, the latter stressed and anxious, the former bewildered and questioning. His eyes widened as he took in the scene of Chuck on replay and Gabriel wielding the remote. "What's going on?"

"Hey, kiddo," Gabriel said, "do me a favor." He beckoned Jack over, then handed him the remote. "Hit that button for me."

Jack's look of polite puzzlement never wavered, but he did as requested. There was a crackle of static, and Chuck vanished.

There was a moment of silence, part stunned and part triumphant, then Dean asked, "Where is he? What did you just do?"

"Changed the channel on him," Gabriel replied. "He's now in his own chessy drama about a washed up genre writer trying to relive his glory days."

"But what about his power?" Sam asked urgently. "There has to be a god in place to keep things balanced."

"Oh, there is," Crowley chimed in. "It's just not him. The God in that universe is more of the hands-off type, and Chuck Shurley gets to live and die like any other human."

"And in _this_ universe?" Cas asked.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and gestured to Jack. "You're looking at him."

Four sets of eyes turned to Jack, who looked back at each of them in turn with uncertainty colored with resolve. "We _did_ assume that was Billie's plan," he said slowly. "I just...didn't really think about what would happen after…" The resolve faded, and without it, he simply looked like an anxious child. "Do you really think I can do this?"

"You can't do worse," Crowley offered in casual encouragement.

Jack gave a halfhearted shrug, then frowned slightly as he assessed the demon. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"The name's Crowley. King of Hell."

"Yeah, about that…" Sam cut in. "We need to talk about Rowena."

"We need to talk about a lot of things, Sammy," Dean told him. He scrubbed a hand over his face and heaved a sigh. "I could use a drink."

Ten minutes later saw the lot of them in the kitchen, gathered around the table with a preferred drink in hand. As Dean had observed, there was a lot to talk about, and ten minutes only left time for the barest summaries.

"So," he said with a glance at Crowley, "you were resurrected on accident with a remote, and you," turning to Gabriel, "did another bait-and-switch in the apocalypse world and were never dead in the first place."

"In as many words," Crowley replied.

"But how did you find each other to team up?" Cas asked.

"Also an accident," Gabriel answered. "The rift I opened to get back to this dimension was right in the middle of your boy's lab."

Crowley's smirk was ironic. "And I've been blessed with his company ever since."

"But why didn't either of you tell us you were alive?" Sam demanded. "We were fighting Lucifer, Michael, and Chuck, and we needed allies, and this whole time you were, what, roommates?"

"Oh my God, they were roommates," Dean groaned with a pained expression.

"The stories we could tell you, Deano," Gabriel replied with a cheeky grin. "And did you think we were doing nothing the whole time, Sammy boy? That remote is the product of years of ingenuity."

They all paused to consider the device in a place of honor at the center of the table. The power that moved through it to change the channel on Chuck had destroyed the batteries and warped the plastic to leave a perfect impression of where it had sat in Jack's grip. Jack himself didn't contribute to the conversation, but stared blankly at the ruined remote while the others spoke around him.

Dean paused, then turned to him. "You okay, kid?"

Jack looked up at him, hesitated, then said, "Do you really trust me? To be God?"

A look of awkward surprise passed across Dean's face, and he turned to the others as if for help. Crowley and Gabriel were suddenly and tactfully interested in whatever they were drinking, and Sam and Cas merely stared back at him expectantly. He heaved a sigh and said, "There has to be _someone_ , Jack, or the whole universe gets thrown into chaos. And I don't know who else comes close to being qualified for the job."

"But...what if I screw it up?"

"You do know who you're taking over from, right?"

"But Dean, what if I hurt someone again?"

"Well, with great power comes great responsibility."

Jack didn't laugh.

Dean gave up on humor and said, "Look, kid, this is a huge job. I get that. And yeah, that makes it scary, and...yeah, I haven't always been...well, I've been angry. Sometimes at what you can do, sometimes at what you've done. And that's made me a dick, I admit it. But you didn't deserve it, and I'm sorry for that."

Jack gave a small nod and lowered his eyes again.

"I mean it," Dean insisted, "I'm sorry. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about how things are going to turn out now, but I guess...I'm mostly worried that…" He glanced around the table at Sam and Cas as well, then went on. "I'm worried I've screwed up enough you don't trust me to be there for you when you need help."

"Of course, I do," Jack replied immediately. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I…" Dean faltered, looking flustered. "I tried to lock you in an unopenable box, for one thing…"

"But I _did_ get out."

"I--I pulled a gun on you."

"But you didn't shoot me."

"Jack, I've been an ass to you more often than not since you were born."

"And I forgive you."

Dean paused, then looked away.

"I do," Jack told him. "You're family, Dean, and I trust you with my life, and I think that matters more than anything else."

Dean looked lost for words, but after a moment he went to Jack and pulled him into a hug. "I've got your back, kid," he promised. "I have faith in you."

Jack didn't reply, but returned the embrace gratefully.

"So," Gabriel said after a moment, "one big happy family? One last apocalypse in the bag and now we're free and clear?"

"It looks like it," Sam agreed. "What are you going to do now?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Same as always, I guess. I could mind my own business and have fun doing it, get bored and mind other people's and have even more fun. Hell, might screw around and open my own bakery. It's my story to write, isn't it?"

"And what about you?" Cas asked Crowley. "Are you going to take Hell back from Rowena?"

"You can't be serious, Cassie," Crowley replied. "I'm rid of both of them at the same time, _and_ I just helped save the world? I want my honorary Winchester flannel."

"I think we can work something out," Dean said.

Crowley smiled.

"But who says we have to settle everything right now, right?" Dean went on. "Let's just...enjoy this for a second. No more apocalypse, no more Chuck, no more tragic endings. That's a hell of a win for Team Free Will."

"Well, what did you expect?" Gabriel asked with a wicked grin. "I mean, you're not the _Lose_ -chesters."

A collective groan went around the table, but the mood remained unchanged. There were still monsters and demons, and it would likely stay the family business, but for the first time since either Sam or Dean could remember, it didn't seem like such a burden. It was a choice they were free to make. The ending finally belonged to them.


End file.
